


What You Won't Leave Behind Part II

by cynatnite



Series: What You Won't Leave Behind [2]
Category: Bourne Legacy (2012), Marvel (Movies), S.W.A.T. (2003)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Minor Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, pre-slash Coulson/Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynatnite/pseuds/cynatnite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Street sees the cop he knew as Brian Gamble on TV as a fighting Avenger. Furious at the betrayal, he goes on a trek to bring him to justice. That's what he keeps telling himself when he finally catches up to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Won't Leave Behind Part II

Two days after Street had killed Brian Gamble, he had showed up at the bar that they used to call their second home. He remembered all the times they had teased each other, played pool for sex and stumbled out of the place hanging onto one another. Street wanted to save Brian, but he didn’t know how. He suspected his old lover didn’t want to be saved.

What surprised him when he got to the bar was the missing photo. It had been there the night he left with Sanchez. Street was sure of it. He searched the bar and spoke to the owner. He hadn’t seen it or anyone near it.

Could Brian have come back after it? Street felt powerless to do anything. Brian’s body had been cremated and the ashes scattered according to his wishes. There was no family to mourn over him. Despite all the wrongs Brian committed, it was wrong, Street felt. Even worse, it felt lonely.

There were good days and bad days following Brian’s death. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. If he was honest, it was because he was struggling to accept it. Brian’s death never felt real and his mind always went back to the missing picture at the bar. In the first few years, the bad days always seemed to outnumber the good. Street would go to the beach and walk to the end of the dock where they would spend their days fishing together.

Hondo and the guys tried to help and Street appreciated it, but there was nothing to ease the ache of loss and betrayal. Street had long stopped wallowing in alcohol. His job had become the only thing that mattered and then he began healing once he saw how devoted his friends were to him. The pain began to lessen.

Just when Street was starting to live again, his world got tossed on its ear. Street tossed his jacket over the back of a chair and went to the TV where Deke, Sanchez and Hondo stood transfixed.

“What’s going on?”

“Some crazy shit,” Deke said. “Fucking aliens.”

“What?” Street was sure he heard wrong and he stepped closer.

On the TV before his very eyes were strange creatures flying through the New York City skies and fantastical individuals were fighting them. Iron Man was blasting away at everything he could. A large green creature was tearing into the alien monsters. There was a large man with a hammer, too. It was surreal.

“Dig that vato,” Sanchez whispered as she gazed at the big blond, then her eyes caught a redhead who was holding her own. “Who is she?”

“Are they localized?” Street asked.

“Looks that way,” Hondo said. He glanced at his phone and wondered if he should text his brother, Nick. “They’re giving the bastards as good as they get.”

“We should find out if this is happening elsewhere,” Street told him.

“And do what?” Deke asked. “You think we could fight those things?”

“If we have to,” Street answered.

“If she can, I can,” Sanchez said. She had her eyes on the redhead with a smile on her face.

“I know you can,” Street told her. Sanchez was always as tough as they come.

It was then that Street’s world fell out from under him. The redhead was firing her weapons at the creature and next to her was Brian Gamble fighting the aliens using a bow and arrow.

“Fuck,” Street whispered under his breath. He didn’t realize he had said it until after the fact and looked for reactions from his friends. He turned his attention back to the TV.

The battle finally ended and everyone cheered. Street slipped out of the room and headed to the locker room. Fortunately, it was empty with all the excitement in New York. He needed to get his bearings.

No one else seemed to recognize Brian that was for sure. It had been some years since Brian’s betrayal and that pain suddenly felt as fresh as it had the day he had turned on Street. Brian was obviously older and no one else knew him like he did. People had forgotten and with the new reality they were now living in, it was likely no would remember.

Questions on top of questions began forming in Street’s mind. Everything from how to why with variances on each one was solidifying themselves.

“You fucking bastard,” Street breathed. While he had mourned for the loss, ached from the betrayal and pounded his fist into a punching bag over the years, Brian Gamble had somehow lived and gone on with his life. It began slowly and then the anger built into a fury that Street had never known in his life.

Street would get his answers if it was the last thing he did. Brian Gamble would pay for his crimes. He went to the office and yanked out the paperwork. A few minutes later he presented it to Hondo.

“Vacation? Now?”

“Our caseload is light and you’ve got more than enough people to cover for me. If these things come back, you can recall me quickly enough.”

“This is damn sudden, Street. Want to tell me what this is about?”

“I’d rather not, sir. It’s personal.”

Hondo leaned forward and studied the request. “This is open-ended.”

“I figure I’ll be back in a week. Two at the most.”

“You haven’t taken a vacation in over two years and that was under protest if I recall. You shouldn’t be surprised at my confusion.”

“Now is as good a time as any, sir.”

“Sure.” Hondo certainly didn’t believe him. He signed the request and handed it back. “Give it to Marta on your way out.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Street.”

“Yeah.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

Street nodded and left.

~*~

New York City was bustling with activity when Street arrived. He had been lucky to get in the city. With the ravages of an alien battle lying about, it made sense to limit the comings of people trying to get into the city. Street was able to use his credentials and talk a good line.

He found a downtown hotel room close to where the action had been. The destruction was overwhelming and crews were busying cleaning up. Areas were quarantined with only authorized personnel. Street guessed it was what was left of the alien carcasses. He had followed the news at how they had collapsed once the mother ship was destroyed.

They called the group that Brian was a part of ‘The Avengers’. It was a good name, but Street couldn’t figure out how a piece of shit like Brian could be in a group like that. It made zero sense. He made his way to ground zero of the battle. The building was damaged and only the letter A was left.

It was their home he had been told, but Street suspected these Avengers didn’t call the place as such. They had legions of fans now and the last place they’d be at was where everyone knew they would be. He needed more information.

Street adjusted the cap low on his head. He took the alleyway behind the building and slipped on his gloves. It took little effort to get inside. Street assumed that the higher he went, the more difficult security would get. Distraction was what he needed.

Street went back outside and immersed himself in the crowd. There were a few hundred people clamoring for a look at one of the Avengers. A few whispers here and there had everyone expecting the Avengers to make an appearance.

By the time Street went back around, the crowd was surging forward and security was having a difficult time controlling them. He needed this break to get to the top floor.

Once there, Street ignored the computerized voice asking for his ID. He kept his head low as he disabled the system. Street had no idea how much time he had until the system was back online. He suspected that his presence was already detected. He made sure that he could disguise his appearance long enough to get a bead on where the Avengers called home.

Street accessed a computer system thankful for the training that Hondo had ordered him to attend. The boss always liked his people multi-trained. He saw the budgetary allowance for off-site expenditures and hoped that was it.

Then Street grinned when he saw the grocery list. There was no doubt about where Brian was. He memorized the delivery address and hurried out of the building. The crowds were thinning and Street easily blended into them.

After renting a car, Street drove to the address he had found in the computer. He parked a block down the street, got out and did a walk around the block to get the lay of the land so to speak. They were staying in a stylish brownstone.

If Street couldn’t access it from the front, his only option was the back. He cut through the alley and headed to the back of the brownstone. He neared the backdoor and studied it. Breaking in would be easy enough. There was little to no security, but there was no way of knowing who was inside.

Street went back to the rental and got inside. He picked up his coffee and settled in for a stakeout.

~*~

Over the next few days, Street got to know the routine of the group. He waited patiently for the right time and new it was soon in coming. He had discovered that Brian was keeping to himself more and spending time in the back. That was when he knew he could make his move.

Street eased the car down the alley when he knew everyone was gone. He watched Brian through binoculars going to the back with a bow and a quiver of arrows. Street took out the specialized handgun and waited.

As soon as Brian neared the back, Street aimed the handgun and shot him. A tranquilizer got him in the neck and Street was already out of the car. He went to Brian who was trying to keep his feet under him. The questioning look on Brian’s face turned to surprise as he took the dart out of his neck.

“Hello, motherfucker,” Street said.

He dragged Brian to the car and cuffed his hands behind his back. Street got him in the trunk and slammed it shut. He went back and snatched up the bow and arrows.

~*~

For over an hour Street drove and when he was sure Brian would be awake, he took the car down a desolate road. He opened the trunk and he yanked Brian out. They’re eyes locked.

“Long time, Street.”

“Yeah,” Street answered. “If you can behave, I’ll put you in the backseat.”

“What are you doing, man? What the hell is this about?”

Street’s laugh was a bitter one. “You have a fucking short memory. I’m taking you to LA. You’re going to stand trial for what you did and you’ll spend the rest of your life locked up.”

“Who am I to argue with that? You’ve got a big problem, though.”

“What’s that?” Street yanked him around and opened the back door.

“Brian Gamble doesn’t exist. Never did.”

“We’ll see about that when you’re standing in front of a judge with the evidence piled at your feet.”

“That’s another thing. As much as I deserve to rot my life away in prison, I’ll never see a day inside. This was a wasted trip.”

This wasn’t the Brian Gamble Street remembered. The cop he knew back in the day was cocky, full of jokes and sarcastic one-liners. The man before him was defeated, almost broken in two. Street ignored it and shoved Brian into the backseat.

Street got behind the wheel and started down the road. He looked at Brian whose attention was on something out the window.

“You don’t think you’ll do any time? Why’s that?” Street asked.

“Just know that if we do make it to LA, the second my fingerprints hit the wire, I’ll be right back in New York quicker than you can say “$100 million”.”

“Fuck you, Brian. You may think this is one massive joke. You’re damn lucky you won’t have a murder conviction against you. Otherwise it’d be the death penalty.”

“Yeah, well, that idea is something I wouldn’t argue with.”

Street watched Brian lean towards the window and look up. “Your pals won’t find you until I’ve got you behind bars.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Goddamn it, Brian, where the hell have you been? Playing Robin Hood?”

“Are you still with SWAT?”

Street saw that he wouldn’t get an answer. “Yeah.”

“So you were watching the tube and saw me playing hero.”

“You were always good at playing,” Street shook his head.

“I thought about you a lot over the years. I knew you’d take it hard with how it ended between you and me.”

“Not really,” Street lied. “You were surprisingly easy to replace.”

“Oh, is that right? Well fuck you.”

At the sound of thunder, Street looked up at the forming clouds. “Strange.”

“Hold on to your ass.”

Street ignored him and kept driving. It was when the car seemed to lift from the ground that his eyes widened. It came down with a crash and Street was sure he saw stars. Before he could grapple for his gun, the door was flung open and he was yanked out.

Holding him by his shirt was the big blond he had seen on TV and setting down to the ground was the famous Iron Man. A transport of sorts landed on the highway and out came the rest of the Avenger team that Street had seen on TV. He watched them assist Brian from the car and remove the cuffs.

Reality began to shift when a familiar, yet not so familiar, face approached him. Street couldn’t believe it. “Shit! Hondo?”

“Goddamn it,” Fury cursed. “You’re one of his, aren’t you?”

“What the fuck is going on around here?”

Nick Fury glanced at Natasha. “Is Barton okay?”

“He’s fine.”

Fury motioned for the accompanying SHIELD agents. “Lock him up.”

Street couldn’t believe it when a contingent of agents took him down to the ground and proceeded to frisk him. He barely heard the argument coming from his ex-partner.

“Sir, he’s not a threat. You’ve got my word.”

“He’s a security risk who I can’t let out of my sight, Agent Barton. For another thing, no one owns your ass but me. You ever let someone take you down without a fight and I will have you doing drills with the Warriors Three. You got me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here.” As Nick walked back to the transport, he flipped open his phone. “Get me Sgt. Harrelson of SWAT at the LAPD now.”

~*~

During the ride, Street would look at Nick Fury then to Barton and then to the strange crew of people around him.

“Anyone want to let me in on where we’re going? I need to let my lawyer know when I call him to tell about how I was arrested without cause or not getting my rights read.”

“Let’s get one thing straight, James Street,” Fury said as he moved closer. “I don’t have to tell you shit. I have the power to arrest your ass and throw you in a deep hole for the next 30 years without you ever seeing a judge. Not even that brother of mine can do a damn thing, I don’t give a shit who he plays basketball with.”

“You and Hondo?”

“Yeah, me and Hondo who has been a pain in my ass since he could walk.”

“Fucking twins.” Street nearly laughed. He looked at Clint. “And you? You knew about all this the entire time and never said a word.”

“Easy, Street.”

“Fuck you, you piece of shit.” Street leaned back against the wall. He tested the cuffs once again.

“That’s enough,” Fury ordered Street. “You’ll get your chance to say your piece.”

Once they arrived at the helicarrier, Street was shocked at the sight of the amazing machine. He turned his attention to Clint who was gazing at the open water.

“Take him to holding,” Fury ordered the agents. He went to Clint. “My office, right now.”

~*~

Street was shoved into a holding cell and he looked at the observation window where the beautiful redhead was watching him.

“You’re his friend? Lover?”

“Friend now. Lovers in the past,” she said. “Name’s Natasha.”

“Street.”

“I know. He’s talked about you.”

“Really?” Street had a lazy grin as he took in his surroundings. “Did he also tell you that he’s escaped justice for some years now?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Apparently not since you locked up a cop and let the bad guy run loose.”

“Street, it won’t be long and Clint will be coming down here to talk to you. I’d consider it a favor if you shut the hell up long enough to listen to him.”

“Clint. Is that is name now?”

“That’s always been his name.”

Street watched her leave and he turned back to the small room. A sink and toilet had a private spot and small bed was the only place to sit. He sat back and got comfortable. If Brian, Clint or whatever the hell his name was, thought he was going to let it go, he had another thing coming.

~*~

Fury turned on the monitor and as he waited he looked to Clint. “You okay?”

“Sure, I’m great, sir. No one wants to lock me up for the crimes I did commit, and the last person I ever expected to show up wants to lock me up for the crimes I didn’t commit. I’m fucking brilliant, sir.”

“We’ll get this settled as soon as I talk to my brother.”

“You’re not going to be able to hold him, sir. He’s a decorated Navy Seal.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” His brother appeared on the screen and he put on his best face.

“I’ll be damned,” Hondo grinned. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing your one-eyed ass for a while.”

“Circumstances being what they are I figured a phone call was in order.”

“Is that who I think it is?” Hondo asked when he caught sight of Clint. “That makes a hell of a lot of sense now. The money to fund that little jailbreak didn’t fall out of the sky after all.”

“Glad you remembered me, sir.”

“I should’ve known. I’d congratulate you on a damn fine job of not killing anyone if it wasn’t for the hurt you put on one of my best men.”

“Speaking of which,” Fury started.

“Fuck!” Hondo leaned back. “He’s there, isn’t he?”

“In one of my holding cells. He tried to take him back to L.A.”

“You didn’t treat him to a little Gestapo tactics, did you?”

“Fuck you, bro,” Fury said. “I’m having a plane meet you in L.A. They’re bringing you here where you will get the full Monty of everything I do.”

“No shit.”

“No shit,” Fury responded. “Your man has some of it figured out by now. Just as well to get the entire story.”

“And I can’t tell a soul.”

“You got it. See you in a few hours.” Nick shut off the monitor and looked at Clint. “What do you want to do about your friend?”

Clint folded his arms. “He’s too pissed at me right now to see reason. Talking to him while he’s locked up is out of the question, sir.”

“You want to let him out?”

“If we don’t, sir, he’ll get out on his own. He bypassed Stark’s security system easy enough and got a bead on me. Have Rogers take him to the mess hall or something. Maybe that’ll cool him down enough until Hondo gets here and we can hash this out.”

“I have a feeling Street just became a permanent pain in my ass.” Fury tapped on his earpiece. “Rogers, meet me at Street’s holding cell.”

Clint watched him leave and then went to the large observation window overlooking the city. He had a lot to answer for and there was no doubt that Street was just the beginning.

~*~

Street sat up when he saw Nick Fury and Captain Steve Rogers peering through the window.

“I’ll let you out of there on one condition,” Fury told him. “Agent Barton is hands off. Is that clear?”

“Let me out of here as in letting me go?” Street asked.

“Letting you out as in Steve Rogers is your escort until my brother gets here to take care of your sorry ass.”

“Fine,” Street agreed. He’d find another way to get to Clint.

Once he was out, he looked over Steve Rogers. He was a little intimidated by the man’s size, but wouldn’t let it show.

“How about something to eat,” Steve said.

“There’s a mess hall on this tub?”

“Follow me.”

Street followed Steve and his eyes tried to memorize the journey. “This place is something else.”

“It’s easy to get lost. They tell me there’s a basketball court.”

“Figures.” Street stopped when he saw an observation window. Below crews were cleaning up a mess. “What happened there?”

“Someone fell.” He wasn’t about to open up to the real reason behind all the damage to the helicarrier.

“Right.” Street knew a lie when he heard it and when he got to the mess hall he was impressed by its size.

After getting their food and sitting, Street opened his soda and took a drink. “Where is he?”

“Who?” It dawned on Steve who he was talking about. “He eats in his quarters these days. He’s not much for socializing.”

“Really?” The man Street remembered loved pool, cookouts and carousing with friends. “That doesn’t sound like Bri..Clint.”

“It’s not,” Steve admitted.

That’s when Street realized there was more to the story than anyone was saying. It was starting to add up. Clint’s unwillingness to fight him, the depression in his eyes and now isolating himself spoke volumes of the changes in the man he used to know.

“What happened to him?”

“If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you.” Steve took a bite of his hamburger. “You are a police officer?”

“Yeah, SWAT.”

“What?”

“You don’t know what SWAT is?”

“I’ve been gone a while.”

“Special Weapons and Tactics,” Street told him. “We manage high risk operations that normal cops can’t handle.”

“Almost like SHIELD.”

“What’s this SHIELD?”

“Oh, Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Someone worked hard to come up with something that spelled SHIELD.”

“SHIELD fights aliens, right?”

“Among other things. They fight the fights no one else can or are willing to.”

“What’s your story?” Street asked. “My old man used to talk about a hero back when he was a kid that was killed. You share the same name?”

“I am him,” Steve told him. “Stark likes to call me a cap-sicle. Probably because he sees me as having a giant stick…”

“Yeah, I get the idea.” Street couldn’t hide his grin. He liked the guy.

“I was frozen inside a block of ice for 70 years. I thought I was fighting a war that made sense and then I woke up to a new world and a different kind of fighting. Everyone I cared about is either dead or…” Steve trailed off unwilling to finish the sentence. He hadn’t allowed himself to think of the people he had lost from his forced hibernation.

“Have you thought about seeing any of them?”

“I can’t.”

“Is that for your sake or theirs?”

“Maybe both.” Steve picked up a fry and pushed it through the ketchup on his plate. “I don’t have the first clue how to face any of them. I’m not ready, I guess.”

“You’ll know when you are.”

“From what I understand, it’s been quite a few years since you and Clint were partners.”

“We were,” Street said. “Good ones, too. We were the best.”

“And you want to kill him.”

“We don’t always get what we want now, do we?”

“Do me a favor, Street,” Steve said. “Give him some breathing room. Let him talk to you and maybe you’ll change your mind about him.”

“Not bloody likely, but I’ll let him say his piece.”

“Are you done?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I can’t eat another bite. I’d just rather not get locked back up if it’s all the same.”

“You’re with me until your boss gets here in a couple of hours. We can go find that basketball court if you want.”

“Lead the way,” Street said and then followed him out of the mess hall.

~*~

When Hondo finally arrived, they all settled into the conference room and before anyone could begin, Tony Stark arrived making as much of a nuisance of himself as was possible.

“Stark,” Nick said showing his displeasure. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

“I wanted to meet the non-SHIELD person who bypassed Jarvis like he’s a Commodore 64 game system.” Tony went to Street and shook his hand. “Impressive, my friend. If Fury doesn’t offer you a job, I do have an opening.”

“Is he always like that?” Hondo asked Fury.

“Shit,” Tony said. He looked from one brother to another. “You must’ve scared the hell out of your mother when you were kids. God knows what you’re doing to me.”

“Sit down, Tony,” Steve told him. “Let’s get this done.”

“Agent Barton, formerly Brian Gamble of SWAT, is going to tell the story of how he lied and nearly murdered other cops,” Street announced.

Clint busted out laughing. If there was a more inappropriate moment, this was it.

“Barton,” Fury said. “That’s enough.”

“Is it?” Clint got to his feet and walked around the table. “He tells it much better than I ever could. I think I’d rather be…no, I fucking wish I was guilty, sir!”

“Stay focused,” Fury told him.

“What’s he talking about?” Hondo asked.

“Maybe we should tell them.” Steve said.

“No,” Fury ordered. “The details of that are classified.”

“Bullshit,” Hondo said. “You said I’d get the full rundown.”

“Of what we do,” Nick told his brother. “Not everything.”

“You don’t get that day,” Tony told Hondo. “That day belongs to us.”

“Fine,” Street said. “That’s not what I’m here for anyway. I want to know why the hell I can’t drag your ass to LA and put you in jail.”

Clint gazed at Street for a moment and remembered their moments together. He went back to the last time. It was the night before the bank robbery. They had been on the beach together until the early morning hours. He wondered if he had inwardly known that the next day he’d have to walk away from Street.

“We got word that a group was going to hit the bank the day before,” Clint said. “We put an agent in as a customer to help run interference. She was the one I shot.”

“Did she know you were going to shoot her?” Street asked.

“No. She asked me if I wanted join her for coffee this morning when we ran into each other in the weight room.”

“She knew it came with the job.”

“Getting shot?” Hondo skeptically asked. “That’s a hell of a sacrifice.”

“We all know what we signed up for and SHIELD is a little more intensive than most of your other run-of-the-mill secret organizations,” Fury stated.

Clint went back to the table and sat. “We set up permanent operations in cities around the world. LA was where I had been assigned.” He wasn’t going to say Coulson’s name no matter what. “SWAT gave me a cover to get in on operations that SHIELD would have an interest in.”

“Most of the time organizations like the LAPD and SHIELD’s paths wouldn’t cross let alone directly conflict with each other,” Nick told the room.

“Until you paid me a visit,” Hondo said. “You wanted me to look the other way so you could snatch Montel.”

“Who?” Steve asked.

“Alex Montel,” Nick said. “A major international player in drugs, weapons and whatever else you care to name. We wanted him not just to take down his organization, but also so that we can gather Intel on other groups he's known to associate with.”

“The $100 million guy,” Stark interjected. When he saw Steve’s questioning look, he added, “Montel publically offered $100 million to anyone who could break him out.” He grinned a little at Fury. “You all must’ve done a giant circle jerk over that one.”

“Seriously?” Hondo exclaimed at Stark’s tasteless joke.

“He gave us our opening,” Clint said. “We took it. The obvious choice was to move him by air. The LAPD didn’t exactly make it a secret.”

“I handpicked two of my best pilots, changed out the seats in helicopter for state of the art impact resistant ones and directed Agent Barton where to hit to bring down that bird. It was a controlled descent every step of the way. No loss of life.” Fury was proud of that and he didn’t care who knew it.

“Since I had to play loose cannon, I made a point of befriending some unsavory assets along the way. They came into play when we made our move on Montel.”

“One cop did die,” Street told him. “They attacked a convoy.”

“That was completely out of our control. No one should have been surprised that some dickheads would go cowboy against the LAPD.”

“Right,” Street said. He remembered the craziness of the attack. It had been an onslaught without planning.

“We needed a solid plan on short notice and in most normal situations that would have been hard as hell with what little Intel we had.”

“McCabe,” Hondo said. He rubbed his eyes trying to erase the memory of the cop committing suicide in front of him.

“How in the hell did you get him to go along with this?” Street harshly asked. “He was a fucking good cop!”

“No, he wasn’t, Street!” Clint yelled. He got to his feet and leaned on the table. “He was a shit cop. McCabe came to me. I tried to fucking wave him off and he wouldn’t budge.”

“That went against your standing orders, Barton,” Fury said.

“Sir, I spent 5 years with these guys. We bled together. I wanted another way to get Montel, but McCabe wouldn’t let it go. When he refused to back off, he became my asset. I fucking used him every step of the way.”

“And Boxer? What was he? A way of throwing me off?” Street pressed.

Clint turned around and refused to look at Street. The entire events of that night were coming back to him like a nightmare.

“What happened, Clint?” Steve asked. “Who was Boxer?”

“A cop. He went for his gun,” Clint said in a low voice.

“Bullshit!” Street got to his feet. “Your fucking itchy finger got him shot!”

“Oh, my god,” Tony said astonished at what he just saw. “He doesn’t know. Street doesn’t have the first clue about you, Barton.”

“What is it I don’t know this time?” Street’s voice was laced with sarcasm.

“Clint Barton never misses, never has had a trigger finger and has never shot without just cause,” Fury told him.

“That’s not true,” Street said. “His scores are just under mine at the range.”

“He was undercover, Street,” Steve told him. “He couldn’t be the best shot in the world while under.”

Clint then turned around and faced Street. “He was going for his gun and I made sure it was a non-lethal shot. I knew I could do it without killing him.”

“He knows more than that,” Tony said. “He does lightning fast physics calculations in his head and he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. It’s as natural as breathing for him. He can gage every possible outcome of his aims and he always hits his target. Barton isn’t a mutant or a superhero who relies on magic, a lab experiment gone awry or has a super suit. He has a gift that can’t be taught.”

Street’s mind went back to that night. He remembered Boxer lying on the sidewalk and how the blood loss didn’t seem to be as extreme as it could have been. He remembered how they took off after the group in the tunnel. Then he remembered the claymore and the smoke canister.

“Shit,” he whispered. “You were practically fucking sending out smoke signals in the tunnel. You knew I was coming up on your six.”

“I didn’t want anyone else hurt, Street. Enough people already had been.”

“What’s he talking about?” Steve asked.

“I set up a claymore as a booby trap. Then I set a tripwire and tossed a smoke canister,” Clint told them.

“He found it because you had told him about some of your tactics,” Hondo surmised. “Makes sense that Street would know them by heart.”

Street remembered the night Clint had told him about it. They had been laying out back under the stars talking about potential scenarios in SWAT. Clint had called it old school SWAT.

“The tighter the clock got, the more tense people got,” Clint told them. “My assets weren’t following orders. They were supposed to get me an empty plane. I made sure they the funds to do it, but they swiped one instead with people on it. God, I was fucking pissed, but I didn’t have time to show it. You, Hondo, Sanchez and Deke were coming and I had to fucking slow you up so I could deliver Montel.”

“They got greedy and by the end they panicked,” Hondo said.

“We had a short window,” Clint told the room. “Once Montel got off the aircraft, the Op was over. I had no choice, but to use my out and I had to improvise. Bullets were flying everywhere and hell was breaking loose. I knew by making everyone aware of the female passenger, it would halt people in their tracks. It was the only plausible risk I could take.”

“And you used her to get off the bridge.” Street couldn’t fault Clint for that. He had used her to go after him. “How did they know to fake your death at the railroad tracks?”

“I plan an out for every Op I’m a part of if it goes bad. Everyone knew it and they were ready for me. They just had to wait until you thought you had finished kicking my ass to use a dead body from the decoy hijacking.”

“We couldn’t ID you,” Street told him. “Dental records were confirmed and then supposedly you were cremated. Very clean.”

“No one to question a thing.”

_Except the photo_ , Street thought. _That’s where you screwed up_. He’d make a point of confronting him with that piece of the puzzle without an audience.

“Now you know the entire Op,” Fury told Street and Hondo. “You try to take Agent Barton to LA for this, you’ll have it hard getting him off my helicarrier.”

“This thing is just a big dick for you, isn’t it?” Hondo asked with a dirty grin.

Nick ignored him. “If you somehow manage to get him in a jail cell and then in front of a judge, you will find yourself with every one of Stark’s lawyers in the courtroom, you will also discover every essential piece of evidence mysteriously disappearing. You see, Street, we’re good at that sort of thing. We also take care of our own.”

Clint’s eyes locked with Streets and it was obvious the reality of the situation had finally sunk into his former partner. What he couldn’t gage were his emotions. Clint wanted nothing more than to make things right with him, but it was impossible. Their life together in L.A. was a distant dream.

He couldn’t take it anymore and left the conference room.

~*~

With Hondo’s help, Street convinced Nick Fury that he wasn’t a security risk and he wasn’t going to force Clint back to LA. The matter was settled and Street realized if he had been in Clint’s shoes, he likely wouldn’t have done the Op any differently.

After reports of an oncoming storm it was determined that it was safer to remain onboard. Fury ordered the helicarrier farther out to see to avoid it and the remainder guests were assigned quarters.

Street went in search of Clint’s quarters determined to get to the bottom of the rest of their issues. It took little effort on his part to find his ex-lover. Once he did, he stared at the door taking a few deep breaths before knocking.

Once it opened, Street pushed Clint aside and walked in. “Nice,” he said. “It’s much bigger than mine.”

“What do you want?”

Street glanced around the room and his eyes went to the closet in the corner. He strode over and opened it. Street took out Clint’s bag and started going through it.

“What the hell are you doing, Street?”

“Playing a hunch.” Street nearly had it emptied and then went for the pockets. He stilled once he found what he was looking for.

Clint clenched his fists when he saw Street lift the old photo out of his bag. “Take it. It’s yours.”

“You fucked up, pal. I could never swallow that you were dead. Some days it felt like it, but I could never quite shake it once I saw that the picture of us was gone from the bar. You came back for it.”

Clint took the photo from him. “So what? I like little mementos of all my Ops.”

“Fuck you, Clint!”

Clint nearly smiled. He’d never been so happy to hear Street call him by his real name rather than Gamble or Brian. “Why are you here?”

“We were everything together, man. Together, we were fucking invincible. You should’ve told me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Jesus Christ, Street! I’m a fucking SHIELD agent! You were a Seal! You know the goddamn rules!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Street said pointing his finger at Clint. “We broke all the fucking rules…you and I. Every goddamn one of them. None of it mattered. We both agreed…remember?”

“You want to know why I never told you.” Clint set the photo on the night stand and remembered the night it was taken. “Every damn day I knew it could’ve been our last. I’d get the call that I’d have to walk away from us. It was inevitable. You would never have let me go, Street. Shit, I don’t think I could’ve let you walk away from me if the positions had been reversed. It’s why everything had to go down like it did.”

“Looked awfully fucking easy from my point of view.”

“I had to make it look that way. Any doubts you had would’ve given you reason to come after me.”

“I fucking hate you right now.”

“Good. That makes two of us.”

Clint went to the closet and at the top of the locker was a bottle of scotch. He removed the cap and took a long drink. “Here.”

Street accepted and followed suit. “What happened to you?”

“Classified, you know.” Clint got the bottle back and tipped it for a couple of large swallows.

Street pulled it from his hand. “Bullshit. We’re past that now and you know it. You’ve been walking around like you’re broken in two since I saw you. Talk to me.”

Clint went to wall and leaned his forehead against it. He closed his eyes trying to fight back the tears. “He fucking said I had heart and then he proceeded to gut me like a goddamn fish. God, Street, he tore me apart until I didn’t know who the fuck I was anymore. Nothing mattered!”

“What?” Street couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He forced Clint to look at him. His gut tore at the anguish ripping across his face. “Who? How?”

“A fucking demigod named Loki. He took me, Street, and after he fucking ripped me apart, he put himself in my goddamn head and I…I…” Clint couldn’t hold it together and he was losing his grip on the wall.

Street went to him and held him up. “Easy, now.”

Clint took another deep breath before beginning. “I helped make the portal bringing those alien bastards here possible. I led a strike team on the helicarrier. I told Loki every fucking secret SHIELD had. I killed…”

“It wasn’t your fault. I don’t buy it.”

“Fuck you, Street!” Clint pushed him away. “A few hours ago you were ready to lock me up for the rest of my damn life and now you’re giving me a fucking pass? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Well, the meeting we just had about your Op in LA helped. For another thing, you wouldn’t have done any of that shit willingly. I bet if I went to talk to Fury he’d tell it to me straight.”

“Yeah, I suppose he would.” Clint wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m trying to wrap my head around that it’s not supposed to be my fault. I told everyone I don’t remember anything, but it’s not true, Street. I remember every goddamn thing I did including opening Loki’s prison. One of the best agents and best friend I ever had is dead because of me.”

“Did you and he…?”

“We might’ve, I think.” Clint smiled a little and then sat on the bed. “He always knew how to keep me focused and he always told me what I didn’t want to hear. He made me want to be better not for him, but for myself and for everyone around me. He knew about you and me.”

“He was in LA?”

“Yeah, he stayed with me in Barcelona after the Op ended. He knew I’d have a tough time of it.” Clint lowered his head. “I killed him, Street. Phil Coulson is dead because of me.”

“Tell me about it?” Street sat close to Clint on the bed.

“The objective was to take out the helicarrier and to get Loki. He knew about our Hulk because of what I told him. The plan was to unleash him and destroy any chance they had to fight the invasion forces. I released Loki from holding. After I left, Coulson took one of the experimental weapons determined to take out Loki. He got a spear through the back for his trouble.”

“That was not you,” Street told him.

“The fuck it was,” Clint replied. He wiped his moist eyes.

“Do you think this Coulson would’ve blamed you had he survived?”

“No,” Clint admitted. “It doesn’t mean that…”

“No, you’re not allowed to do that.”

“What?”

“Keep blaming yourself knowing that no one else, even Coulson, wouldn’t blame you. There should be a law or something.”

“Hey, I’m fucking tormented here, Street?”

“Yeah, stop that, too. It’s wearing a bit thin.” Street had a soft grin and he put his hand on Clint’s thigh.

“Wait a damn minute…!”

“Don’t get me wrong, you’ve got some serious thraping ahead of you, but you’re a tough bastard, Clint. You’ll make it.”

Clint leaned against Street’s shoulder. “You are such a dick.”

“You missed me.”

“I did,” Clint admitted. “More than you know.”

“I do know.” Street leaned in and kissed Clint letting him know that forgiveness and love was still in his future. “If anything, I should be begging you to forgive me.”

“Why?” Clint could smell Street’s essence. The musk reached into his soul.

“I wasn’t willing to listen. Not only that, looking back at the past all the signs were there. I should’ve seen them.” Street’s desire was building and his hand went to Clint’s shirt collar. Two of his fingers slid in just under it. He pulled Clint in again for another kiss and took him down to the bed.

Street moved on top and settled onto Clint’s body. He breathed in his scent and pulled him closer. “God, I fucking want you,” he breathed onto his skin.

“Please,” Clint whispered. His hands went to Street’s shirt and he ripped it apart uncaring of the buttons popping off it. It had been so long since he last touched Street and he licked the spicy skin.

The taste of his Street’s flesh went straight to his cock and Clint was quickly losing control. He worked to get off the remainder of his clothes with Street’s help. When they were skin to skin, Clint ground his hard cock against Street’s.

“Shit!” Street rocked with him and rather than let his desire take over, he pulled back.

“What?” Clint said trying to catch his breath.

“This isn’t going to be no five second fuck,” Street told him. He took hold of Clint’s dick and slowly toyed with it smiling at the elicit groan coming from his lover. “Yeah, baby, you like that.”

“Damn it, Street. I’m not going to hold out at this rate.”

“Yeah, you will. You always did before.”

Clint moved his hips up in response to the erotic massage he was getting. “My constitution isn’t what it once was either.”

“We’ll see about that.” Street slid down the bed and leaned in to get the hard cock into his mouth. It had been so long since he had tasted his lover and this was like a spicy delicacy that had been denied him. He wasn’t going to deny himself any longer.

“God,” Clint moaned. He reached down and guided Street in exactly how he wanted only his lover wouldn’t have it.

Street was determined to stretch it out as long as possible. He knew Clint was close when he took the erection deep into his throat.  He pulled it out when he knew Clint was nearly ready.

“You bastard,” Clint laughed. He was still trying to catch his breath.

“Now, that I’ve got you ready.”

Clint watched Street’s face. He loved this part of him. Street’s eyes were hot smoke and his smile spoke of want. “I’m fucking ready.”

Street straddled Clint and sank down on the hard thick organ. “Fuck,” he groaned. It had been too long.

Clint groaned and was careful not to thrust. He didn’t want to hurt Street, but the ache felt so damn good that he knew he’d lose it soon. He needed to distract himself until his lover was ready so Clint rattled off football stats in his head.

“Shit!” Street was fully seated on Clint. Despite some pain, the desire for him was heated and intense. “I’m going to make you fuck me until you scream.”

“That makes both of us.” Clint took hold of Streets hard dick and pumped on it. “This was always how we both liked it. Remember?”

“Fuck, yeah.” Perspiration was beaded on Street’s head. He could feel the wetness stream down his neck across his back. He saw drops land on Clint’s chest. He leaned in and tasted himself on his lover’s skin. “God, you taste fucking great.”

“Fuck me, Street!”

As commanded, Street did just that and as their heated lovemaking built, so did their want for one another. They met thrust for thrust and held on to each other until the end. Clint called out Street’s name as he came. When they finished, Street pulled off of him and collapsed next to him on the bed.

“Shit,” Street said with his face buried in the pillow.

Clint got a wet cloth from the sink and cleaned Street off. “How does that feel?”

“Amazing. It was all fucking amazing.” Street raised his head and grinned at Clint. “Anyone tell you that you’re a fucking amazing lover?”

“Yeah,” Clint smiled a little. “You did a couple of times at least. You’re easy like that.”

“Slut.”

“Whore.” Clint set the cloth aside and settled in next to Street. “We probably shouldn’t have done it like this, but I fucking needed it.”

“You were always the expert at inappropriate fucking,” Street told him. “Fuller never did figure out where the stain came from on his $200 leather desk pad.”

Clint burst out laughing. “It’s still there?”

“Yeah,” Street chuckled. “Even when I thought you were dead, I know I had a shit-eating grin on my face whenever he rubbed it with his finger.”

“You just made my millennium.” Clint looked over at Street. “I screwed you over and I hated it.”

“When I saw you on TV, I was pissed as hell at you. The bullshit about making you face justice was a smokescreen. It never really ended for me, at least not like I thought it did.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Clint told him.

“I still have to go back, Clint.”

“You were never cut out for the cloak and dagger games we play here at SHIELD.”

“I like what I do and I have a shot at my own team at SWAT.”

“Good.”

“Are trips to LA out of the question with you being the deceased Brian Gamble?”

“As long as I’m careful.”

“Good.” Street shifted in the bed and pulled Clint close. “I’ve got plans.”

Street proceeded to show Clint exactly what plans he had in mind.

~*~

 The following morning, Hondo and Nick were in the mess hall having breakfast with Tony and Steve. Hondo had marveled at Nick’s tour of the helicarrier. He got first hand info about their operations with the expressed promise of silence.

“Man, I’m telling you. We could pull off some serious training with your people,” Hondo told Nick.

“You think you’re people are up to it?” Nick asked.

“If you met Sanchez, you’d know how idiotic of a question that was.”

“Is he good?” Steve asked.

“ **She** is damn good and could probably kick both of your asses,” Hondo told Steve and Tony.

“I know someone she’d like to meet,” Tony said thinking of Natasha.

“We might able to arrange a little session at 29 Palms,” Nick stated. The isolated marine base in California would make for the perfect training site.

“Hey,” Hondo said. He pointed to Street and Clint making their way into the mess hall. “What do you make of that?”

“The two lovebirds have made up,” Tony remarked.

“Was thinking everyone else were the blind ones,” Hondo remarked. He looked at his brother. “You don’t mind?”

“Please,” Nick responded disgusted by Hondo’s inquiry. “I don’t give a shit what anyone does on their off time as long as the job is number one. They can screw their brains out on the helipad for all I care.”

“Speaking of which,” Tony said. He turned to Steve. “Hey, why don’t we...?”

“No,” Steve shot him down. “Not for all the tacos in the world.”

When Steve picked up his tray, Tony called out following him, “Coward.”

“How in the hell do you manage a team like that?” Hondo asked Nick.

“I just try not to get in the way too much until it matters. They know the drill. Yours, too, right?”

“Yeah, but the personalities generally aren’t so big. Unless you count Deke. He’s got enough personality for ten people.”

Nick eyed Street and Clint taking their seats. He nearly grinned at Street swiping a piece of food from Clint’s plate. “I think joint exercises are a good idea, Danny.”

“What’s wrong?” Hondo asked. “You don’t call me that unless you’re worried.”

“Just want to make it last as long as possible for them.”

“Fuller’s a real bastard and stingy as hell with his people, but if you get him a photo op with one of your Avengers he’ll roll over as easy as lapdog would for a cookie.”

Nick glanced up when Agent Hill came over and whispered in his ear. “You sure?”

“Yes, sir. Now.”

“Come on,” Nick said as he stood. “We’ve got a problem.”

On his way out of the mess hall he motioned for Tony and Steve. He wasn’t about to disrupt Clint and Street with bad news.

~*~

In the command center, Nick went to his computers. “Put him on.”

A face came over the large monitor in front. “Who is this?”

“Colonel Eric Byer,” he answered. “I have General Ross with me and a contingent of our men. Let us land.”

“By whose orders?” Nick asked.

“The joint chiefs and SHIELD security council,” Byer answered. “I’ve got their orders right here.”

“Instruct your pilot to land on Helipad Three. I’ll have you and the General escorted to the command center. Your men are to stay on board,” Fury ordered.

Byer appeared to consider it. “I’m bringing four. Byer out.”

When the monitor went off, Fury cursed. “Stark, you need to get your legal hotshots in order.”

“Is what’s happening what I think is happening?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, I didn’t think they’d move this fast.”

“What is it?” Hondo asked.

“They’re here for Barton. Who in the hell is this Byer?”

Clint walked over to Nick with Street close by. “I met him once in Iraq. We were loaned for an Op that went bad. He offered me a job and I turned him down flat. It was some program associated with the CIA.”

“You never said anything.”

“No point. I wasn’t interested in being a spook, sir.”

“I can hide him,” Tony said. “I can keep Barton under wraps for years while we untangle this mess.”

“I’ve heard of General Ross,” Steve said. “Banner told me that he’s gung ho about being gung ho.”

“Just explain it to them,” Street told the room. “Let them debrief Clint under strict conditions. None of us will be out of his sight.”

“Not in a million years,” Eric Byer announced as he strolled into the room. He tossed a file on the conference table. “Those are orders to hand Clint Barton over to us. If you don’t, you risk your entire operation, Director Fury.”

“I’ve got 80 lawyers who graduated Harvard who love to tear down current law and build it into whatever I tell them to,” Tony responded. “I also have unlimited funds.”

“I can rendition his ass anywhere in the fucking world,” Byer told him. “He’ll never see the light of day and it would be entirely legal.”

“You think you’re going to take him,” Street said. He moved towards Byer. “No fucking way! Over my dead body you spook bastard!”

Byer laughed. “I heard of you. Street, isn’t it? Your name’s came across my desk a couple of times. I can rendition your sorry ass just as easily.”

“That’s enough,” General Ross announced. “Director Fury, you know as well as I do your options are limited. Agent Barton is considered a national security risk and a terrorist. You have to turn him over.”

“No fucking way,” Fury swore. "You've read the reports. You know what happened was out of his control."

"I also know, Director Fury," Byer said stepping forward. "That what happened to Agent Barton has the interest of a lot of people who are only trying to protect this country. It'd be easier if he just came along willingly." 

"You want what's in his head?" Street said. "You're going to do to him what Loki did."

“Are you willing to put everything at risk for one man?” Ross asked Fury. “We’re talking your entire operation.”

“You bet,” Fury promised.

“No,” Clint said shaking his head. “I’ll go with you, just stop. Okay?”

Street went to Clint. “We can fight this.”

“We can’t, Street. We can’t.” Clint looked at Tony. “You know I’m right. We couldn’t fight for very long and they’ll find me.”

“I know,” Tony admitted.

“This isn’t right,” Steve told Tony. “You can stop him.”

“For a little while, but not long, Steve. Not nearly long enough to help him,” Tony answered.

When Street saw the four camouflaged officers make a move towards Clint, he lost it and went after them. He got two of them down to the floor and stopped when he realized that Clint had his arms wrapped around him.

“Stop it, Street! Please!” Clint begged.

Street lowered his head on Clint’s shoulder willing the insanity to stop. “I just got you back.”

“I know.”

Clint pulled away from him and allowed the chains to be applied around his waist and wrists.

“Goddamn it, Nick,” Hondo said. “There’s got to be something.”

“Agent Barton,” Nick said loudly getting his attention. “We will get you back. We won’t stop. You’ve got my word on that.”

“Yes, sir. I’m counting on it.”

Nick then moved to Clint and whispered in his ear. “Coulson is alive. No one is taking this lying down.”

Clint nodded in relief knowing that Phil Coulson lived. He felt buoyed by the news. He was almost to the door when Street rushed over.

“Wait!” Street yelled. He went to Clint and pulled him close. “I’ll find you. I swear if it means my life, I will fucking find you.”

“You’ve got to promise me something, Street.”

“What?”

“Don’t let them turn me into…I can’t be what I was before. You stop me if I do. You got it?”

Street had Clint by the arms with his fists clenched into his shirt. “I promise. Just don’t give up on us. I fucking love you.”

Clint was pulled close for a last kiss and before could say a word, the spooks yanked him out of Street’s arms.

~*~

On the helicopter, Clint was strapped into the seat while still cuffed. As the bird lifted off he looked across at Byer and Ross.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Son, you’re going to serve your country,” Ross answered. “We’re taking everything out that Loki put into your head. Your standard debriefing isn’t as thorough as our proven techniques”

“When he’s finished with you,” Byer said, “I’ll turn you into the kind of soldier you were meant to be. With your current skills, you’ll be unmatched by anyone in the world.”

Clint rested his head against the wall of the helicopter. He knew what they were saying. He wouldn’t have anything left of himself by the time they were finished with him.

~*~

Back in the command center, the room was silent as everyone took in the events. Street sat in a chair and it took everything he had not to come undone at losing Clint a second time. He got to his feet and stood in front of Fury.

“Director Fury, how do I apply for a job with SHIELD?”

“You just did and you’re hired.”

Street looked over his shoulder at Hondo. “Sir?”

“You’re on leave indefinitely.”

Street walked to the large observation window and over the ocean off in the distance he could see the helicopter growing smaller in the horizon. No, he’d see Clint again. It wasn’t over.

 

END


End file.
